How I wish to nestle
In the flavor and smoke of your supper.
When I lived a homeless citizen,
Missing every ingredient of ancestry.
Whenever you string with dexterity,
The oregano, the soil and the wheat.
Filling in my cups a nostalgia worth to weep,
As the motherhood redeems my dying innocence.
The fruition of labors, withered dreams and secret treats.
When food and memories didn’t have to be refrigerated.
Every natural delicacy straight from the earth,
Covering the rooftop of my truth and your cuisine.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
How I wish to nestle
In the flavor and smoke of your supper.
When I lived a homeless citizen,
Missing every ingredient of ancestry.
Whenever you string with dexterity,
The oregano, the soil and the wheat.
Filling in my cups a nostalgia worth to weep,
As the motherhood redeems my dying innocence.
The fruition of labors, withered dreams and secret treats.
When food and memories didn’t have to be refrigerated.
Every natural delicacy straight from the earth,
Covering the rooftop of my truth and your cuisine.
to my mother whom i haven't seen for two years.
